Howling
by Lady Jade Scribbler
Summary: The Potter child is not what anybody was expecting. For one thing, she is a girl and hates being thought otherwise. For another, she's got a furry problem and she doesn't give a damn who knows it. don't forget her Irish Ttemper! Fem!Harry Werewolf!Harry


A/N:

Hi, everyone. Here's another story I've been working on. I really love it and hope that it's successful. I'll try to update regularly on this, I promise you that. It just depends on where my muse takes me. See excuses for not updating in my A/N for _I Always Did Like Wolves and Blood Pops._ I sincerely hope you enjoy this fic. I like to think that it's original and hope it's not over the top. Without any further ramblings, I present to you _Howling._

Chapter One: I Am A GIRL... Mostly

"Stupid Albus and his stupid errands," Severus Snape thought to himself with a grumble as he strode briskly out the front doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Why do I have to be the one to reintroduce Potter's spawn to the wizarding world? If he acts like his father as much as he looks like him, this year is going to be HELL!" Severus sighed in exasperation. On top of it all, he had to take a portkey all the way to Ireland. Surely this was the boy's doing. Why else would Petunia, a phony British wanna-be, move back to the Evans family home in Ireland when Severus could clearly remember her swearing at the end of her parents' funeral that she would never enter the place again? Potter probably smiled that blasted smile at her or pulled out the waterworks, the signature move of a spoiled brat. Severus was startled out of his angry brooding when he finally reached the gates. As soon as he was over the anti-apparation perimeter, he vanished into thin air.

An hour later, after a bit of a hiccup at the portkey office in the Department of Magical Transportation, he landed on a dusty, winding country road that rolled off out of sight. A number of small farms and cottages dotted it for more than a mile both ways. Involuntarily, Severus took in a breath of the crisp, country air. A torrent of memories of his childhood and adolescence flooded into his head at the sight of the place. Further into town, about three quarters of a mile west, an even smaller road which had been dirt the last time he'd seen it branched off of this one. He had lived on that road, Spinner's end, in a run-down farmhouse with his mother and father. A muddy river, more close in size to a stream, ran through the back yard. But that wasn't the house he would be looking for today. Up the road, he spotted a smallish, two-story cottage that he had visited many times as a boy when he came around to play with Lily.

The cottage was yellow and made of stone with a simple, shingled roof. It had a large front porch and a stunning view out all of the windows and was very homey in appearance. As he drew nearer, Severus noticed that it hadn't really changed that much since he'd last come. A simple pickup sat in the paved driveway at the side of the house where Mr. John Evans had once displayed his pride and joy, a 1957 Chevy truck that was painted a rusty red. Petunia's truck, Severus noted, was another Chevy: a worn-looking 1973 which was painted cornflower blue. This was another oddity. When he had last seen the older Evans sister, she wouldn't be caught dead either in the country or driving a pick-up of all things. Looking around, Severus observed only a few more really noticeable changes. The front walk and the driveway had been completely redone; the winding path up to the house was a yellow stone to match the house and was bordered by flower bushes, some in full bloom. The driveway was a concrete which went well with the house. The weathered old porch had also been replaced by a more sturdy-looking one made of some sort of pale wood. This just kept seeming stranger and stranger to Severus. Even if Petunia had caved into Potter's demands, what about her brute of a husband? Severus had intensely disliked the man the few times they had met. He was a close-minded fool and showed a violent streak when he had gotten drunk at Lily's wedding. Surely he wouldn't have stood for this?

"Focus, Severus," he chided himself. "You're here for the Potter boy; stop dallying and knock already." Taking a steadying breath, he prepared himself for the innately bratty nature the boy would possess before stepping up the three stairs and striding to the blue front door. Composing himself, he knocked sharply with the old brass knocker that had been on the door since before Lily was born, so she told him.

"No no, dear, I'll get that. You just stay right there, all right?" came the surprisingly soft voice of Petunia Dursley from the direction of the living room. Severus snorted. Potter had gotten Petunia of all people to wait on him hand and foot? It was worse than he thought. Tapping his foot impatiently, the stern potions master was just about to knock again when the door was slowly opened. When Petunia saw who waited on the other side, however, it was flung open the rest of the way.

"What on earth are you of all people doing here, Severus Snape?" she demanded sharply. Of all the times a Hogwarts representative would come, it just HAD to be today, didn't it? The worst day possible? She had responded to the letter, explaining that Belle was ill and that nobody should come for two days at least, but NOOOOO. Wizards were such a presumptuous lot; it always rubbed Petunia the wrong way. And they hadn't even gotten her Niece's name and gender right with both this letter and the one left with the girl almost ten years ago.

"Hello, Tuney. I should think that quite obvious, as should you. I have come to introduce Potter back into our world. Is there a problem with that?" Severus enquired silkily.

"Well there WOULDN'T be if you had not presumed to call on us when I explicitly told your headmaster in my return letter that she is ill and is in no condition to receive visitors. I see that you lack manners just as much, if not more, than you did when we were children. Nice to see some things never change." She sniped somewhat irritably. Same old, manners-obsessed Tuney, Severus mused. The Irish cadence which could once be heard in the voices of both he and the Evans sisters, a speech pattern that Severus had long since covered up, was clear to discern in Petunia's irritated tones. This was another surprise as, the last they had met, Petunia had likewise disguised her Irish upbringing with a British accent. It was a poor imitation of RP which came off sounding something like Estuary, unlike Severus's well-controlled baritone. Then, what she had REALLY said registered in his brain at last. Controlling the urge to gape, Severus shook his head. Did Petunia just call Potter a SHE? No, no, he must have been hearing things. He forgot then, if only for a moment, that his time as a spy meant that he misheard nothing.

"You know as well as I do that any magical child raised by Muggles must be checked upon by either a Hogwarts professor or qualified Ministry representative no matter whether their parent or guardian does, or does not, give permission. Now I suggest that you let me in to see the boy. That is, of course, unless you want me to think you are hiding something?" Severus said in his smoothest voice which took on a dangerous inflection near the end. Petunia scowled at him. There he was, going off about her niece being a BOY again. It was enough to make her want to slap him. But that wouldn't be nearly satisfying enough. No, she would let Belle spell it out for him herself. It would be much more amusing if it went that way.

"Very well. Do follow me to the living room. But I did tell you that _HARRI_ is ill so don't be surprised if you get a less than open reception, Severus." She said stiffly. Nodding, Severus followed her into the warmly coloured room. The floors were on the darker side of cherry and the walls were a pale yellow. White lace curtains hung on the walls. A small figure, swathed in blankets, was curled up on a large, warn, overstuffed leather sofa.

"Hey, hon, we have a guest. This is Severus Snape, Hogwarts's potions master." Petunia said gently, walking around to where the child's head lay and brushing a lock of black hair off the telltale lightning-bolt scar. So this was Potter? He was certainly smaller than Severus had been expecting. James was tall for his age whereas Lily... but such a small, feminine stature as Lily's wouldn't be passed to a son, would it? Severus almost snorted at the thought of a five foot Harry Potter, fully grown. It would serve the brat right.

"Joy. Can you tell him to sod off, Auntie?" an irritated, unexpectedly high, voice came from the pile of blankets. The accent that Potter spoke with was unmistakably Irish which suggested that they had been living in this house for several years. But Severus's observations of the child were cut off abruptly when he realised what Potter had dared to say to him. What a rude little shit. How DARE he say such a thing? It was obvious that, for all her preaching about manners to others, Petunia had taught the boy none to speak of.

"Be polite, please." Petunia admonished before Severus could start on an angry rant, shaking her head as she did so. "Why don't you come out from those blankets for a second and say hello?"

"No way! It's bloody c-c-cold out there." The child squawked angrily. Severus scowled. Cold? It was JULY and the boy claimed he was COLD? He just kept appearing more and more of a brat.

""watch your language and do as I asked, please. I'm sure that Severus here would love a face to remember you by." Petunia, unnoticed by even Severus, winked at her niece.

"Fine, fine." The brat huffed, throwing the blankets off of himself and swinging his legs over the side. Severus was shocked at what he saw. It wasn't that the boy was indescribably hideous or terribly malformed; that wasn't the case at all. The reason that Severus Tobias Snape, former double-agent extraordinaire and Potions Master, had been so thoroughly taken aback was that Potter was not a boy at all. He was, in fact, a she. She was like a miniature clone of Lily down to the eyes except she had Potter's nose, knobby knees, and damnably unruly raven hair. On a second glance, however, Severus picked out a few differences from both James and Lily that he couldn't seem to find an answer to. The girl was paler than either of them were and her otherwise stunning emerald eyes had noticeable flakes of gold moving around in them. The paleness could be explained by the girl being ill, if she even WAS ill, but an explanation for the flakes of gold slipped his mind at the moment.

"I... Wha... How..." for the first time, the proud potions master had been reduced to a stuttering idiot. Later, under the influence of copious amounts of firewhisky, he would reluctantly admit to this being one of the most humiliating moments of his adult life.

"Hello, Professor Snape. The name's Harribel. Harribel Lilynette Potter. Don't ask about the name, Aunt Petunia tells me that Mum was a manga freak. I'm just glad it's not "Hariberu Ririnetto," that'd be kinda weird. By the way, I do NOT appreciate being called a BOY."

"But... I... well..." Severus continued to stutter. Harribel had to hold back her giggle. Even feeling as shitty as she did at the moment, the preteen could easily appreciate what her aunt had done to her childhood acquaintance.

"My my. Severus Snape is _STUTTERING?_ I never thought I'd see the day again." Petunia grinned.

"Explain." Severus said dangerously. But the affect he was going for was ruined as he sat shakily down on one of the room's oversized armchairs.

"Can't you be a little more specific than "explain" or are your mental faculties such that you are unable to string together a coherent sentence?" Harribel asked, cocking an eyebrow. This Snape bloke didn't seem half as intelligent as her aunt had made him out to be. Then again, a more reasonable part of Harribel mused, he could be Steven bloody Hawking and she would probably still label him an idiot for the bitchy state she was in.

"Watch it, young lady. Please try and reign yourself in for a while, all right?" Petunia asked, placing her hands on her hips. Harribel rolled her eyes but tried to tamp down on her emotions which were more erratic and close to the surface than usual.

"Right, a guest, whoops. Anyway, _PROFESSOR_ Snape, would you _PLEASE_ be a little more specific in your inquiry?" she asked sweetly.

"Very well, _MISS_ Potter. First off, I will have you know that my mental faculties _ARE_ such that I am able to string together a coherent sentence. I was simply lost for words at what a brat you are. As to my _INQUIRY,_ it is not so hard to figure out if you have two brain cells to rub together. How were you mistaken to be a _BOY_ all this time? When did Petunia tell you of the wizarding world? Why are you in Ireland? And what has made you _COLD_ in the summertime?" Severus spouted one question after another.

"Oooh, very good. Six out of 10 chimpanzees would consider you slightly smart." Harribel said acerbically. She had the rest of the month to be nice. These few days, however, she felt completely justified in being at least a little disagreeable. She tried not to vent towards her aunt on days like these and guests like this Mr. Snape just made it easier. Plus, from what her aunt had said, Severus Snape was snarky and acerbic _EVERY_ day. She was the same only about five days a month, three if everyone was lucky.

"_HARRIBEL!_ I'm sorry, severus, but she's usually not like this." Petunia hurried to assure a silently scowling Severus. "She's a sweet girl, really. But you just _HAD_ to come at the time of month where she isn't, at least not so much."

"Don't tell me that a little PMS gets the girl in _THIS_ kind of a state, Tuney." Severus sneered.

"Okay, I think I'll downgrade my assessment of you, Professor Snape. The majority agrees that you are a bonehead. I thought you were observant. It's not PMS that gets me once a month, you dolt, or else I would have had it since I was six." the girl snapped. Severus was just about to explode. How _DARE_ this _BRATTY_ little twit call _HIM_ of all people a _DOLT?_ If anything, it should be the _OPPOSITE_ by now. So consumed in his frustration and bad memories of James Potter's taunts was he that Severus, uncharacteristically, did not get the rather obvious hint the girl was dropping.

"I think you need to spell it out, dear." Petunia said, her voice bubbling over with mirth. Never had she seen Severus Snape so flustered, not even when they were children.

"Fine fine. If my hint hasn't drilled itself into your head yet, professor, I'll give you another one. _ OWOOOOO!"_ she let out a surprisingly good imitation of a howl that violently snapped Severus back into reality. His eyes widened comically and Harribel burst out into laughter.

"Do you think this is some sort of joke? Tell me what is really going on this minute. I haven't the patience for games." Severus snapped angrily, sure that the girl was having him on.

"No games here, sir. I'm being 100% honest with you, okay? I don't appreciate being called a liar, either. It's quite rude." Harribel said huffily. "Look to my eyes for the truth. You know what the gold means." and Severus did. He looked straight into the girl's eyes and realised she was right. The golden flakes were the exact same colour that flitted about in the blue eyes of Remus Lupin when it was close to the full moon.

"To clarify, Miss Potter, you are, indeed, a werewolf?" Severus asked.

"Yes, yes I am." Harribel said. "Good boy. I think you just gained an IQ point."

"_HARRIBEL!"_ Petunia screeched. "Severus I..."

"Save it, Tuney. I am well-read on the affects lycanthropy has on those who are afflicted with it near the full moon. But what I want to know is how the bloody _HELL_ this could have happened with the wards that were set up around your home. It also would be nice to know why you aren't registered with the Ministry of Magic? Are you aware that not being registered could result in your death?" Severus said silkily.

"They'll do no such thing!" Petunia exclaimed but Harribel simply sat there, serene and smirking.

"The morons at the British Ministry of Magic rarely, if ever, bother to check on the files and registries of their Irish cousins. Even though, technically, the Irish and British ministries are connected, they hardly ever interact with each other. Plus, even if the British _DID_ see my file, some little Irish chit named Harribel Potter wouldn't register because they haven't got a lobe of a brain between the lot of them, mostly. The only higher-up who knows of my condition at the present time is the head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, who will be smoothing over any ruffled feathers when I make my entrance to England again." Harribel explained happily.

"I see. But you are aware, as soon as they realise you are female, they _will_ put the pieces together and discover that you are a lycanthrope?" Severus asked curiously. This child was actually intriguing him now. It seemed as though, even if she had inherited some aspects of James Potter, her mind was much like Lily's.

"So? I haven't got anything to hide. Yeah, a lot of the time being a werewolf sucks but that doesn't mean that I have any right to hide it from people. That's deception. When deceptions are revealed, trust goes down. With me and my "status," if trust goes down than morale goes down. Why should I care what some backwards, brainless, bigoted braggarts think of me anyway? Plus, this is the perfect buffer. If people try and be friendly with me, I'll know it's because they don't care that I'm a so-called dark creature or the girl-who-lived." Harribel told him.

"Isn't that a bit presumptuous?" Severus asked.

"Belle has a very keen sense of judgement, just like Lily did." Petunia explained.

"Belle?" Severus asked. "Is that what you prefer to be called?"

"Whatever floats your boat, mister. I don't mind Harri, either. I actually find the name rather ironic. Last night, I _WAS_ _hairy._ Get it? But I like Belle too. Most times, I'm Belle. But sometimes, I'm the beast... 'cept I'm a girl. So call me what you like." Harribel rattled off. Severus frowned and shook his head.

"I see your sense of humour is as naff as your father's was." Severus drawled. Harribel maturely stuck her tongue out at him. "But onto my earlier questions. Would you two mind telling me just what the hell has happened over the past ten years?"

"She can. I'm crawling under the blankets again. I've done my part and I'm Arctic cold." with that, Harribel swung her legs back onto the couch and buried herself in the pile of blankets once again.

"All right, dear. Rest up." Petunia said lovingly. "Now, which question would you care for me to answer first?"

"How was Potter mistaken for a boy?" Severus demanded.

"Two reasons, actually. Firstly, it was basic misdirection. Lily and James would say things like "Oh, our darling _Harri,"_ or "Harri's getting so big," you see? And people automatically thought that "Harri" referred to a boy with his name spelled as H-A-R-R-Y. As for the middle name your people seem to have tagged Harri with, I guess it's tradition for the first-born son to have his father's name as a middle name. Thus, Harry James Potter was created. It even fooled that Dumbledore man - the headmaster, right? It was so easy to fool everyone with the name because Lily gave birth to Harribel at home and the healer, Madam Pomfrey, was spelled to secrecy." Petunia said, a satisfied grin adorning her thin features.

"And the second reason?" Severus queried.

"Harribel herself. She is an omega-level metamorphmagus. Lily told me it was the highest class their was. Naturally, she can't truly change her gender but she can pull off the illusion that she is the opposite gender. So, as a young child, she looked quite androgynous. I'd ask her to show you but she can't morph at all the day after the full moon. What you are seeing now is her base form." Petunia said.

"And the day before the full moon?" Severus asked. To his knowledge, no metamorphmagus in living memory had been bitten by a werewolf.

"It's all over the place. Poor Belle can barely control it. The best she can do right now is to keep her same body structure so she doesn't destroy a dozen outfits. It starts off small, two days before the full moon with her hair, eyes, and skin shifting. On the second day after the full moon, that's all she can shift." Petunia sighed.

"How was she bitten in the first place? Why was she out of the wards late enough that a werewolf could prey upon her?" Severus asked somewhat angrily. A distant look appeared in Petunia's blue-green eyes.

"It was November. Belle and my son, Dudley, were over at a friend's house which was on the other side of the small park from ours. The park was directly across the street from each house. It was only 6:30. Even though it was already dark, they had taken this rout at the same time before. I didn't like the idea of it at all but my husband... forced me to agree. I don't know if it was just because he didn't like Belle much and hoped Dudley would leave her behind to get lost or what but, in any case, I didn't have much of a choice. He... he wouldn't let me leave and so... so they started walking home alone... my six-year-old babies..." Petunia looked pained and as if she were about to cry. Severus could see the genuine pain and fear of her husband, or at least his memory by the sound of it, lurking in her eyes. That was the only reason he didn't explode at the idiocy of letting two six-year-olds walk home alone in the dark.

"It was cold and starting to rain." the small voice of Harribel sounded from the blankets. "We were just in the park when we saw its outline. The two of us started to run but I tripped on a fallen tree branch. I had sprained my ankle. I shouted to him, "Get help!" and he ran off. I... I was terrified. I thought I was going to die for sure." Harribel shivered, going silent.

"By the time I got to Harribel, her accidental magic had thrown the werewolf several yards. But it was too late." Petunia said shakily. Harribel nodded and pulled the shoulder of her flannel pajamas down her right arm. She also pulled up her flannel pajama bottoms on her left leg. Lastly, turning slightly, she lifted her shirt up to expose her back. Three straight, angry red scars ran horizontally across it as well as a few smaller, white scars that Severus knew were _NOT_ from the werewolf. His heart sank. He recognised scars like that from when they marred his own back during his childhood. Petunia was looking more and more like his mother, wanting to do something but too trapped, weak, or just beaten down to. Harribel's shoulder had a fresh-looking imprint of teeth scarred into it and her left calf was savaged with chunks missing and a web of angry red lines and circles swirled around it for several inches.

"It caught my shoulder first. Shook me then dropped me. It hurt like hell and I tried to scrabble away. That's where the others come from. It held me down with a paw or two and started on the leg. I think it thought I was some sort of drumstick or something. They're usually not so angry-looking but around the full moon they start looking fresh again. I have trouble with my right arm because of some of the muscles he screwed up and the leg gives me a limp. I can't totally get rid of them, even with my metamorphmagus abilities. I can only move them somewhere else, like my back or a lower layer of skin or even my arse... but that's kinda awkward and uncomfortable." Harribel narrated.

"I called the only healer Lily said she trusted. Poppy Pomfrey. Again, she was under oath not to divulge any of this, even to her employer, Albus Dumbledore. She went through the proper channels and got Belle registered through the Irish ministry as she already held duel citizenship." Petunia said.

"And where is that... that _HUSBAND_ of yours? And where is your son?" Snape asked. Petunia burst into tears.

"You hurt my aunt." Harribel said in a calm but dangerous voice. "_NOBODY_ hurts my aunt you _TACTLESS_ _IMBECILE!"_ she slapped him hard. "Do you have _ANY_ idea how much the mere _MENTION_ of my cousin hurts her? Maybe if you had more than an _AMOEBA_ for a brain cell than you'd realise how much it _PAINED_ her to even say his _NAME_ just now. I'll tell you what happened in _VIVID_ detail. It was two days before the full moon. I was to be taken to a secure facility to wait out the transformation the next night. As I am prone to do during this time, I got lippy with my so-called uncle. He came at me with a frying pan and Dudley jumped in the way. Dudley Jonathan Dursley died that night and it was _MY_ fault. Are you happy? And, if you're dense enough to wonder where Vernon is now, he's doing life in _PRISON."_ the girl was right in his face, yelling at him. Tears were pouring from her eyes like rivers as she sank back onto the couch, sobbing with her aunt.

"I... I... I..." for the first time in a long time, Severus Snape felt shame. He had obviously brought a lot of pain back into focus for these two. He had never been known for being subtle in interrogations but that's not what this was. This was a simple school visit where Severus was only supposed to ascertain the condition of the girl. One thing was for certain: he would never see Harribel Lilynette Potter as a clone of her father, even a female one, and he would never doubt Petunia's sincerity and love for her niece.

"You... you... you... is that all you can say?" Petunia demanded.

"I think what Aunt Tune is trying to say is pa-pa-pa-piss off, prat." Harribel said with a sniff. Petunia didn't even argue.

"I suppose I will take my leave. I... I am sorry for any pain I brought to the forefront. Here is your letter, Miss Potter. Can you two make it to the alley without assistance?" he asked softly, handing the fragile-looking girl the envelope.

"Yes, Severus." Petunia said shortly. Severus sighed and headed to the doorway of the room. Before he left, he turned around and spoke.

"I really am... sorry." he said. He didn't know why but, even though he wasn't one to apologise, he felt he ought to do so again as he _was_ in the wrong.

"I know." Petunia said. Knowing that those were the only two words she would grace him with, Severus exited the room completely and left the house


End file.
